An Astoran in Skyrim
by SonOfAstora
Summary: I believe the title really does say everything you need to know. An Astoran knight finally finishes his pilgrimage, and links the First Flame. Or does he...? Rated T for now, mostly just for violence and such
1. Chapter 1

An Astoran in Skyrim

Chapter 1: Well, F***

**Hello everybody, I am SonofAstora and this is An Astoran in Skyrim, birthed from my ongoing playthrough of Skyrim where I am trying to act like an Astoran Knight the whole game. How? I use a sword and shield, heavy armour and give my shield resistance to fire. Simplicity itself. But you don't care about that, so lets get this started! (I don't play modded, I play on X-Box.)**

**MajorDivider**

"Well… Damn."

What else was I supposed to say? I had almost done it. I had kindled the first flame. Hadn't I? I mean, I had felt the burning sensation, the flames travelling up my arm and into my very soul… or had I? Had that been some sort of trick, some dream or hallucination brought on by the encroaching insanity?

And it was with that I picked myself up off the ground, having realized I was lying rather uncomfortably on the cold ground. Packed dirt, with cobbles layered on top rather inconsistently. Lordran had no roads like that. Where was I? I rose to my feet and looked around, seeing trees, another rare site in Lordran, except for the Darkroot Garden. Was that where I was?

No, these trees were Cedar and Pine. Rather similar to the ones back home in… Astora! Was that where I was? Astora? Had I returned home? Come to think of it, I felt rather… strange. Quite refreshed and… human?

I brought my hands up to my helmet, unclasping the leather straps holding it on my head. I felt my face. Flesh! Actual skin and flesh! Rugged and dirty, but real skin, not the dried and exposed skin of my undead form. I felt a feeling I hadn't felt in quite some time. Happiness? Hope? Joy? All of these I hadn't felt in what seemed to be ages.

I turned over and over, the cold air not bothering me a bit, the falling snow adding an air of tranquility to this small clearing in the forest I was in. Wait, snow? Yes, sure enough, small, powdery flakes of snow were tumbling from the sky, towards the ground. I raised my head and opened my mouth, feeling one of the soft flakes land on my tongue. A childish gesture, I knew, but who was to judge me? I hadn't seen snow in years!

I returned my focus to my surroundings. As pleasant as the snow was, I was still in possibly hostile lands, and I had no idea what awaited me. I realized I was but a few feet away from a bridge, with a sign next to it. I walked up and read it.

'Darkwater Crossing'. Hmm, I had never heard of a bridge called that. Perhaps I was in Northern Astora. My family had been from the south, after all, perhaps that was why I hadn't heard of it. It was then I heard the crunch of boots on fresh snow, and I turned.

I saw a group of men wearing blue cuirass's and carrying weapons walking down the road. I raised my hand in greeting, but my other hand went to my sword at my side. I had no idea who these men were, or if they meant me any harm. They stopped abruptly, having noticed me. I chuckled softly.

I must have made for an intimidating figure, even by myself. Dressed as they were, these men must have been some sort of local militia, perhaps on patrol. They were most likely stunned by the sight of a nobleman such as myself. One of them, the man in the fur cloak, gestured to a fair haired one next to him to approach. They said something to each other, and the blonde greeted me.

"Hello there, who might you be?" He yelled.

"Markus, Knight of Astora!" I yelled back.

"I am Ralof of Riverwood, and this is Jarl Ulfric of Windhelm, leader of the Stormcloaks!"

Hmm. I had never heard of the rank of Jarl. Perhaps I wasn't in Astora.

"Would you perchance know where we are?"

"At the border of Skyrim and Morrowind!"

Well, this was an odd development. I had never heard of either of those lands. Where was I?

Suddenly, I heard the unmistakable sound of an arrow whistle past me, striking one of the 'Stormcloaks' in the chest. With the speed only a trained knight can know, I shrugged my shield off my back and into my left hand, while drawing my sword. I saw a new group of men, this time wearing leather and chain armour with swords in hand running towards me. Another arrow glanced off my shield, and I readied myself for battle.

I heard the warriors behind me draw their weapons and run towards the second group, yelling.

"Skyrim belongs to the Nords!" One of them bellowed, as they rushed towards the more organized soldiers before them.

"Down with the rebellion!" A soldier of the ambush yelled. Wait, rebellion? Had I found myself in the midst of a civil war?

The two forces met, the ambushers having a clear advantage over their less organized opponents. I decide to stand back and let the fight resolve itself.

After a few minutes of brutal fighting, the ambushers, whom judging from yells were called 'Imperials', forced the Stormcloaks to surrender. It was then that I elected to approach the victors, weapons sheathed and hands raised to show I meant no harm.

Two of the soldiers approached me, weapons drawn, but down, and one raised his hand in greeting.

"Hail, knight. What business do you have in Skyrim?" He asked.

"I… I have no idea. I just… awoke here, on the road." I replied honestly.

The soldier raised an eyebrow, leaning to his friend and whispering something. He made a gesture to someone behind me and I went to turn, only to hear a 'woosh', and feel a burning pain in my side. I fell to the ground, and everything went black.

**MinorDivider**

I awoke in the back of a carriage, still wearing my armour, but with my weapons and shield gone. I opened my eyes, vision blurred and head sore, feeling as though I had awoken from sleep after a night of drinking.

As my vision slowly cleared, I looked up, hearing vague calls, until my hearing cleared up. The blonde Stormcloak… Ralof, was trying to speak to me.

"…As us, and that thief over there." He said. I looked over and saw a man wearing naught but some rags.

"This is all your fault! If the Empire hadn't ambushed you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." He replied.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Somewhere south of Darkwater Crossing. Other than that, I don't know." He replied.

I suddenly felt an aching pain in my side. Ralof looked at me.

"You got hit by a firebolt. Damn mages." He said, a small amount of pity in his voice. I looked down at my side and saw a large scorch mark on my armour. The plates had fused partially, but it wasn't anything a decent blacksmith couldn't fix.

"Uuuugh… Who are you people?" I asked again, still trying to make sense of things.

"You're definitely not from around here, are you." He answered. "We're the Stormcloaks, the true sons of Skyrim, while these bastards are the Imperials, weaklings who have banned the worship of Talos!"

"Shut up back there!" The Imperial soldier driving the carriage said.

"So… is Talos some sort of god?" I asked.

"Yes. I'm no preacher, so I can't tell you the exact details, but is the ninth Divine, he who is both man and god." Ralof answered once more.

"Man and God?"

"Talos was once a Nord, who rose to become Tiber Septim, who united mankind and founded the Empire. His deeds were so great, the gods offered him a place as the ninth divine, lord of mankind."

"Hmmm… so, what caused the Empire to ban Talos? If he founded the Empire, surely they must worship him as well."

"The Elves, that's who. The Aldmeri Dominion, an alliance of High Elves and Wood Elves invaded and nearly destroyed the Empire, who surrendered by signing the White-Gold Concordat, which banned the worship of Talos."

"Huh. So let me get this straight; you guys, the Stormcloaks, fight these guys, The Empire, because the Empire has banned your religion, because they had to sign a treaty with the Aldmeri dominion."

"That's the gist of it, yes."

I looked at the gagged man sitting next to me.

"And this is your leader, Ulfric Stormcloak?" I asked.

"Yes. Jarl Ulfric defeated the king in single combat, which should make him High King, but the Imperials accused him of murder and branded him a criminal." Ulfric replied, shaking his head in disgust.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy." The man in rags said.

Everyone ignored him, including me. I was seeing walls ahead of us, and a gate, as well as a man on horseback with golden decorations on his armour.

"General Tullius, sir, the headsman is waiting!" I overheard one of the Imperial escorts yell.

"Good, lets get this over with." The man, who I would soon know to be as General Tullius replied.

"Who's that?" I asked Ralof, gesturing towards Tullius.

"General Tullius, the military governor. He's in charge of the legion here in Skyrim. Looks like the Thalmor are with him. Bet they had something to do with this. Damn Elves." Ralof replied, anger filling his voice at the site of the Elves.

"So those are the Elves?"

"Yes. They must be here to ensure Tullius doesn't go back on his word."

I looked at the mysterious robed and hooded figures, one of them on horseback.

"They don't look so tough." I said.

"Spoken like a true warrior!" Ralof laughed. His voice changed to a more serious tone. "Don't underestimate them, though. Most are fearsome spellcasters, and they move faster than anything I've ever seen."

"Good. That'll give me something to look forward to while fighting them."

"You and I ought to share a drink some time." Ralof said, knowing that was impossibility.

"Who knows? Maybe something will happen? They don't know who I am, they could set me free. I'll bargain with them, get you out of here."

"That won't work. Tullius is a bastard, but he's devoted to the Empire, and seeing us dead. He'll kill us all, just to make sure the jobs done."

I thought of mentioning death was a regular occurrence for me, but I didn't want him thinking I was insane. Best for him to die thinking he did it alongside a fellow warrior, rather than some cursed abomination.

The wagons stopped inside of the town, and all of us hopped out. A rather attractive looking woman dressed in metallic Imperial armour walked up, as well as a soldier carrying a quill and paper.

"Step up to the block as we call your names, one at a time." The woman, who I judged to be an officer by her armour and disposition, yelled at us.

"Jarl Ulfric of Windhelm." The soldier said, as the mentioned started to walk towards the block.

"It has been an honour, Jarl Ulfric." Ralof said.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

Ralof set off toward the block.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No! I'm not a rebel, you can't do this!" The rag wearing man yelled, before running.

"Archers!" The Officer yelled, arrows whistling through the air and biting into the running thief.

"Anyone else feel like running?" She asked threateningly.

"Wait. You there step forward." The soldier said, as I stepped up.

"Who, are you?" He asked.

"Sir Markus, son of Duke Merric of Astora!" I replied, deciding to try to stun them with my title.

"Astora? Never heard of it." The soldier replied, before looking to his commanding officer.

"Captain, what do we do? He's not on the list."

"Forget the list. He goes to the block." She answered.

"I'm sorry, prisoner. We'll try…"

"Don't bother. It's become evident you people have never heard of Astora." I interrupted, before joining the others at the block, just missing a speech from General Tullius.

"Give them their last rites." He said to a woman in orange robes.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you…"

"For the love of the gods, shut up and let's get this over with." One of the Stormcloaks interrupted, before stepping towards the block.

"Very well." The priestess said, sounding rather hurt.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" The Stormcloak asked, as the Captain forced his neck onto the block.

'Thwack' The Headsmans axe split the mans head from his shoulders, the head falling into a basket in front of the block as the body limply fell to the side.

"Next up, the stranger from Astora!" The captain yelled.

It was at that moment a strange roar filled the air.

"What was…" Ralof started.

"I said, next prisoner." The captain snarled.

I stepped up as the roar happened again, this time, drawing the attention of the Imperial soldiers, causing several to unsheathe their weapons.

I felt the captains foot on my back as she forced me to the ground.

Then, just as the executioners axe was raised and about to come down, I saw an, odd sight to say the least. A beast I recognized as a dragon swooped from the mountains onto the top of a tower.

"DRAGON!" Someone yelled, as the beast… yelled? Yes, it yelled at us, the blast igniting a chunk of the town and throwing the executioner to the ground. I rolled away, throwing the officer off balance, and leapt, yes, leapt, to my feet, grabbing her sword from its sheath with my still-bound hands.

"Come on, Markus!" I heard Ralof yell, and I turned and followed him, still carrying the sword.

"Here, give me that. I'll get your arms loose." Ralof said, once we were safely in the tower, with several other Stormcloaks, including Ulfric.

I handed him the sword, and he cut my bindings. I rubbed my wrists together and stretched my arms, working out the kinks in my muscles.

"Here." He said as he handed me back the sword. "I'm better with an axe."

I tested the weapon, weighing it in my hand and giving it a few swings. It wasn't on the level of my straight sword, but it would work for the time being.

I headed upstairs, only for the dragon to burst through the wall, causing me to nearly fall back down the stairs, as the enormous lizard blasted a Stormcloak with fire.

"See that inn over there? Try jumping through the roof. I'll be right behind you." Ralof said, looking through the enormous hole in the tower wall.

I backed up, then ran forwards, leaping through the hole and into the burning inns second floor… then through the inns second floor. I felt something crack, but I shrugged off the pain and rose from the pile of rubble. I had felt worse. I ran out of the ruined inn, seeing the soldier who had been reading the list standing before me.

I didn't spend too much time paying attention to him, as I saw a small boy standing in the middle of the road, petrified by fear as I saw the shadow of the dragon headed towards him.

Without thought, I sprinted forwards, pushing the soldier aside and grabbing the boy, rolling away from the road into a side alley between a wall and a house, as the dragons flames torched the ground where he had been standing. The boy stared up in awe at me, and I suppose I must have looked quite epic. I was still wearing my armour (With the exception of my helmet), and had a sword in one hand, my entire body covered in scorch marks.

"Come with me." I said, as I set off at a jog towards the only path out, a hole in the wall of a nearby house.

To his credit, the boy kept up quite well, as I found myself in the main square of the town, before a group of Imperial archers and sorcerers, desperately firing arrows and bolts of flame at the dragon, who was still circling the town.

"Head for the keep!" I heard the General yell, and I grabbed the boys hand.

Why I was keeping the boy with me I don't know. I guess I felt protective, after saving him from the dragon. I sprinted into the courtyard of the fort, seeing Ralof standing next to a side entrance.

"Over here!" I heard him yell, and I ran to him.

"What's with the boy?" He asked, looking at the child.

"He… he was about to get turned to ashes… I wasn't thinking…" I said, panting. The run through town had taken a lot of energy, and being human did have its downsides.

"It's alright. Let's get inside." He said.

Upon entering the keep, Ralof looked at the boy.

"What's your name, son?" He asked, crouching down so he was eye-level with the child.

"H-Haming." The boy stuttered, clearly nervous at being with two trained soldiers.

"Well, Haming, I'm Ralof, and your brave rescuer here is Markus." Ralof said.

"Th-Thank you, mister Markus." Haming said to me.

"No need to thank me." I replied, looking for an exit to the room.

"Any luck?" Ralof asked.

"The only door is locked, and the gate opens from the other si… Imperials!" I suddenly whispered, as the aforementioned soldiers rounded the corner. I ducked down next to the gate, gesturing to the boy.

"Open this gate, soldier!" I recognized the voice of the captain, as the soldier pulled the chain that must have opened the gate.

"Now then, lets ju AAAAGGHH!" the captain yelled as my stolen weapon, hers ironically, stabbed through the gap in the armour on her back. The soldier turned while drawing his weapon, and went to swing at me.

I tried to pull my weapon from the captains back, but it was stuck. Luckily, Ralof hammered his axe through the soldiers helmet and into his head from behind, stopping the swings momentum, the sword merely clanging off my shoulder.

"Thanks." I said as I finally pulled the blade from the officers back.

"Don't mention it." He replied, tearing his weapon free in a squirt of blood and brain matter.

We searched the bodies for a key, finding it in the officers satchel at her side. I tossed it to Ralof, who went to open the door, as I gave the officers dagger to Haming, the small blade fitting perfectly into his hand.

"Don't cut yourself, alright?" I said. He nodded eagerly, as he looked at the weapon with some mixture of joy and excitement. Huh, I guess Skyrims just that kind of place, I thought.

"Got it." I heard Ralof say as he pulled open the door, and I pulled Haming along as we walked through.

The first room we walked into contained two soldiers, one of whom rushed me the moment I opened the door. I parried his swing and dug my fist into his gut, making him double over, as I ran at the second soldier, who turned and ran. I shrugged and began to search the room for something we could use. I found a few bottles of a strange liquid, a chunk of bread that I quickly ate, and eventually my treasured sword and shield, as well as my helmet, in a box labeled 'confiscated goods'.

I held the blade to my chest, feeling the blessing within it fill me with strength. I put on my helmet and turned to look at my companions, who looked at me with awe.

"You do cut a fearsome figure in that." Ralof said, as Haming simply stared.

I grabbed my shield and lowered my visor.

"Lets go." I said, voice muffled from my helmet, but menacing nonetheless.

We walked down the stairs, hearing yelling.

"By the gods, a torture room." Ralof said.

I saw an older man wearing Legion armour shooting lightning from his hands and another with a mace attacking a female Stormcloak with a warhammer. I strode forwards, smashing the man with a mace over the head with my shield as thrust my sword forwards, feeling it pierce the mages leather armour and enter his torso.

The man with a mace landed a hit on the Stormcloak, and Ralof roared as he split the mans spine with a brutal downwards slash, before he cut into his neck with a backhanded swing, nearly decapitating his opponent.

The short but brutal battle was over in a few seconds, and Ralof helped the woman up as Haming searched the old mans bag, finding a few lockpicks.

"Do you know how to use those?" I asked.

"Yeah, my friends dad taught me." He walked up to a cage. "You just find the tumblers… press them in… rotate the lock… and done!" He said, as the door sprung open.

"Good to see you can be useful." I said, as he smiled.

Meanwhile, Ralof was asking the woman some questions.

"Looks like the only way out is through there." He said, pointing to a hall.

After a few minutes of walking through dank corridors and tunnels, we found ourselves embroiled in another fight. This time, though, there were archers firing at us from across a small reservoir. Ralof had found a bow, and returned fire, as the Stormcloak, who's name turned out to be Saria.

I rushed the first soldier, who hadn't even drawn his weapon before I smashed him to the ground with my shield. I kicked the next soldier in the chest as Saria smashed the firsts skull with her hammer. I followed up with a nice swing that split the mans throat with ease.

Suddenly, with a meaty 'thunk', Saria went down with an arrow in her shoulder. Ralof dropped the offending archer with a decidedly more accurate arrow to the throat. I rushed the last archer and cut into his chest at the exact same time Ralofs arrow pierced the side of his head.

Ralof rushed over to check on Saria as I grabbed a few arrows from the soldiers, as well as a superior steel dagger to replace Hamings iron one. I peered down the next corridor, seeing a lever to activate a drawbridge, and Ralof came up behind me.

"Sarias chosen to stay here and wait for Jarl Ulfric." He said.

"Let's get going, then." I said as I pulled the lever, the old mechanism making a rather loud squeal from rust as the drawbridge dropped.

And off we went, into the depths of the caves, not even hearing the smashing sound that would seal Saria in that reservoir. I still wonder what happened to her sometimes.

One could argue that my journey so far had been easy, had been simple. No. It was not. I was tired, hungry, thirsty and cold. This would very clearly show in our next battle.

Upon entering the next tunnel, I heard Ralof curse. I turned.

"What is it?" I asked.

"These webs. They're definitely from frostbite spiders." He answered.

"What?"

"Frostbite Spiders. They're enormous spiders that spit poison that can freeze a mans blood and paralyze him."

"I'll take point, then. I'd like to see spider saliva get through this." I said, gesturing to my shield.

We headed through into the main cavern and, sure enough, there they were, a group of giant spiders. One of them spat, but I had anticipated the move and blocked it with my shield. What I hadn't anticipated was for another to jump at me, throwing me to the ground and sending my sword skittering across the ground.

I held the beast off with my shield, as it scratched at the metal. I could feel its weight pressing on me, holding me in place as I struggled to get free. I looked to my right to see Ralof with his axe stuck in the head of a spider, unable to help.

Out of nowhere I felt the spiders struggling stop, and I easily threw it to the side, standing up to see Haming stabbing another through the head. Ralof looked at the boy in astonishment, seeing him handle the spiders like a professional warrior. I too was impressed, if not a bit worried. What had I just created?

Ralof, Haming and I made short work of the remaining spiders, Haming going on to show us he could very much handle himself in a fight, as Ralof cleaved apart the monstrous things in a whirlwind of death. To be honest, I did very little, watching the two Nords kill off the foe quickly.

After that bloody little brawl, we hastily left the cavern, only to find ourselves stopped once again, this time by a bear. I was growing sick of these distractions at this point, so I simply strode up to the beast, awakening it, and planted my sword through its skull. My comrades looked at me, Haming once again with awe as Ralof just blinked once and shrugged, before carrying on.

"I think that's the exit up there! We made it!" Ralof said, excitement filling his voice as he picked up the pace.

And, as we walked through the cave exit into a bright, beautiful day, I found myself wondering; What had I gotten myself into?

**MajorDivider**

**Well, folks, this has been chapter 1 one of An Astoran in Skyrim. Please review if you can be bothered, follow if you liked it, and either way, stay tuned. **

**(Note: Why is this in the main Dark Souls archive and not the crossover archive? Because, and lets be brutally honest here, no one goes to the Crossover archive.)**


	2. Chapter 2

An Astoran in Skyrim

Chapter 2: Welcome to Whiterun

**Welcome back, my readers! Welcome back! I do hope you appreciate and enjoy this update, which was started shortly after the first chapter went up, because damn it, this story is fun to write! All rambling aside, enjoy!**

**MajorDivider**

First Journal Entry: _I am Markus, Knight of Astora, and I am lost. _

_I know not of this place I have arrived to, this Skyrim, and while it seems to be a dangerous place, it is still leagues better than the constant threat of Lordran. There are towns, cities and forts, all of which are at least tolerant of you, far better than everyone trying to kill you._

_To be honest, I have nearly forgotten how money and such works, being so used to paying merchants in souls. The embarrassment when I tried to pay the general store owner by transmitting souls to him was amusing to my companions, but not so much for me. But it was good embarrassment, as it shows I am remembering the ways of civilization._

_I cannot even begin to tell you how good it felt when I first felt hunger, for the first time since… I can't even remember, honestly. Thirst, hunger, tiredness, all of these are sensations I shall have to get used to again. There are other more… embarrassing sensations. Lust hit me fairly hard the first time I felt it… that was a moment best left forgotten by both me and the woman involved._

_As for my companions, I have decided; I will take on Haming as my page. I no not if this is against the laws of knighthood, nor do I care. Ralof and I tried to get him to stay in town, but he wants to come with me. I will need to get him a proper weapon, and soon. Ralof has chosen to leave us, and return to Windhelm, home of the Stormcloaks, to try to find Ulfric._

_On the monetary side of things… I need to make money. I have taken on a part time job at the mill, which should pay for a short while once I head to Whiterun, which is apparently the center of this region of Skyrim. There I will try to find work, maybe as a sellsword, at least until I can find somewhere to settle more permanently. _

_The dragon attack has shaken up the locals, and I have been requested to tell the local Jarl that Riverwood is defenseless. I agreed, and will set off in the morning. I will take Haming with me, and find somewhere to stay. Perhaps the Jarl will have a job for me._

_Signed, Sir Markus of Astora_

**MinorDivider**

"So now we're headed to Whiterun?" Haming asked, following me over the bridge just outside of town with our pack of supplies, including clothes and food.

"Yes. I'm hoping the Jarl has work for us." I answered.

"Maybe he'll want us to kill some bandits, or hunt a giant, or search an old tomb, or even…" The boy went on as I chuckled.

"The first guess was probably the best." I said.

We continued down the road, the journey feeling more like a pleasant morning stroll than an adventure through unknown territory. Then, we found ourselves on a small ledge, overlooking the plains of Whiterun. I gasped.

They were beautiful. The flatlands were covered in grass and shrubbery, broken up by rocky streams and rivers, ringed by mountains. The last time I had been stunned by the beauty of a place in this way was when I had first arrived in Anor Londo!

I shrugged off the feeling and we continued on our merry way, walking down the path, only to see several Imperial soldiers just ahead. I stopped suddenly, Haming bumping into me. He looked past me and saw them too.

"Do you think they'll recognize you?" He asked.

"With this armour? Almost definitely. Pass me that bag, I'm going to change." I said.

After the rather difficult task of removing my armour, I put on a tunic and boots, keeping my sword at my side but putting everything else into our packs. My armour was heavy, but we made it past the Imperials with little difficulty. One of them looked at my sword funny, but let us proceed.

I quietly sighed in relief as we carried on, passing several buildings, mostly farmhouses, until we heard the suspect sounds of roars and weapons. I paused, before drawing my sword. I crested the hill between me and the sounds, Haming struggling to keep up, before seeing a sight that astounded me.

Some enormous pale humanoid with a club was doing battle with several regular warriors, one of whom was firing on it with a bow as the others danced away from the giants blows, before striking back. I shook off my astonishment and bellowed a battle cry, charging the beast with sword drawn.

It noticed me and swung its club, which I dodged, before slashing at its wrist, drawing black blood. It roared in pain and anger, kicking at me. I rolled away from the blow, before the bowman… woman, actually, fired again, piercing its back, causing it to turn.

'_Here's my chance.' _I thought, rushing the giant. I slashed my straight sword across the vital and exposed tendons on the back of its ankle, causing it to plummet to the ground, nearly crushing me. As it fell backwards, I thrust my sword upwards in both hands, impaling it on my weapon. My muscles strained and my back roared in protest as I pushed up, throwing the beast to one side, dead.

I fell on one knee, gasping from the exertion the battle had put on me, before falling on my back. I lay there for a minute, before a hand suddenly filled my vision, and I heard a gruff voice say "Here, get up."

I grabbed the hand and it pulled me to my feet. I found myself face to face with one of the warriors, who was wearing finely crafted steel armour, with a greatsword on his back.

"Th-Thanks." I gasped.

"Don't mention it. That was a pretty brave move, charging a giant with only a sword like that. And don't even get me started on that finishing move. That was impressive, to say the least."

"That was pure adrenalin." I answered, catching my breath.

"Still, that was incredible. I don't know if you're interested, but I'd recommend joining up with us, the Companions."

"The who?"

"Oh, sorry. You aren't from Skyrim, are you?"

"No, I'm from Astora."

"Where?"

"Never mind. About these Companions…"

"We're an ancient order of warriors and mercenaries, descended from the original 250 companions of Ysgramor."

"Oh. So you're mercenaries?"

"Didn't I just say that?"

"Yeah, you did. I may just consider joining. What's your name, by the way?"

"Farkas. What's yours, friend?"

"Markus."

"Anyways, I need to head back to Jorvaskr, **(I may have misspelled that) **Our mead hall and headquarters. Go there if you're interested in joining."

"Thanks."

And with that, he ran off to catch up with his companions, no pun intended. I watched them go before Haming finally caught up.

"So… what now?" He asked me.

"I think we may have just found ourselves an opportunity." I answered, before continuing to walk towards the front gates of Whiterun.

**MinorDivider**

Upon reaching the main gate, we were stopped by a man wearing a similar Cuirass to the Stormcloaks, but this one in brown and white, and a helmet that looked like a rounded bucket with eyeholes cut into it. Judging from the shield with a horse head insignia and a sword sheathed by his side, I took him to be a guard.

"Halt! Cities closed with dragons about. Official business only." He said, hand outstretched.

"I was sent by Riverwood. They are defenseless. I must speak to the Jarl." I replied.

"Oh, sorry. You can't be too careful these days." The guard said, opening the gate.

We stepped into Whiterun, the first sound we heard being the clanging of steel on stee. Immediately I looked to my right to see a blacksmith, hand going to my sword, before dropping again.

"You're jittery, aren't you?" Haming asked, as we walked along a road to the town square.

"Just a bit. 'You can't be too careful these days'" I replied, imitating the guards rough voice. Haming laughed, and we carried on, before looking at what I presumed to be a tavern of some sort.

I reached for the door latch and entered, Haming just behind. I heard laughter, music and chatter, and presumed we had arrived during the taverns busiest time, lunch. I walked up to the bar and spoke to the barmaid.

"Hello there. How can I help you?" She asked.

"I'm looking for a good meal." I replied.

"Then you've come to the right place. What'll it be?"

"I'll take some bread and meat, beef, preferably."

"Something for your son as well, I take it?" She asked, looking at Haming.

"Oh no, I'm not his son. He's adopted me, and taken me on as an apprentice." Haming answered for me.

"Oh, is that right. You'll have meat and bread too?"

"Yes please, miss."

The barmaid looked at me.

"He's got good manners." She said.

"I've been trying to teach him in the ways of the knight." I replied.

"Well, I can think of worse ways to raise a child." She said, before leaving to get our meals.

She returned shortly after, and Haming and I enjoyed our lunch, the succulent beef matching the dry, airy bread. I had some mead, while Haming drank water. We left shortly after, headed for the palace at the top of the city. We stopped along the way so I could put on my armour.

Upon entering, I was greeted by a guard, who gestured for me to carry on, once I had repeated what I had said to the guard at the front. As I continued past a large pair of tables covered in plates and silverware, I was stopped by an elven woman in leather armour, brandishing a sword.

"Halt! What business have you with the Jarl?" She asked.

"I come from Riverwood. They are defenseless, and there is a dragon in the mountains." I replied, watching the sword carefully. I really didn't feel

"Oh, I see. Come along then, I'm sure the Jarl would wish to meet you personally."

I followed her to a raised platform, upon which sat a throne, upon which sat who I assumed was the Jarl. To be honest, he was rather… underwhelming. He was shorter than me and rather thin, almost gangly. Then I saw his eyes. They were filled with a mixture of cleverness and devotion, the eyes of a leader.

"So, you were sent by Riverwood. You certainly don't look like a millworker or a hunter, so what are you?" He asked, examining me.

"I am Sir Markus of Astora, and this is Haming, my page." I replied, bowing slightly. Haming followed my example.

"So you're a knight? I've never heard of Astora, but a knight could be of use to me." He said, before turning to the elf. "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood immediately. And you, come with me. My court wizard Farengar has been working on a special project lately, and he could use some assistance."

"Lead on, sir." I said.

He lead me to a room off to the left of the main hall, where I saw a man in robes looking at a map. Farengar, as he was apparently named, looked something like Big Hat Logan, but slightly older. He had a short beard and looked about fifty, or somewhere around there.

"Farengar, this is Markus, a knight of Astora. I thought he could help you with your project. Go ahead, tell him all the details." The Jarl addressed the wizard.

Farengar looked at me with suspicion, sizing me up. His eyes lingered on my sword especially, and my armour.

"So, the Jarl thinks you could be of use to me, eh? Well, I do happen to need someone to fetch something for me. Of course, when I say fetch, I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not be there." He said.

"Consider it yours. Where's the ruin?" I answered.

"Just east of Riverwood. Perhaps one of the locals will be able to guide you there."

I nodded in thanks and Farengar returned to his map, as I left.

"I told you we would be going to a tomb." Haming said, grinning.

"And you were right. Haming, if this ruin is anything like Ralof told us, I might leave you in Riverwood. This will be dangerous, and I refuse to take you to your death, just because we need money." I said, looking at Haming seriously.

"Come on, I've already proven I can hold my own in a fight, let me come too!"

"You have until we get to Riverwood to convince me."

Of course, fate, being the bitch that she is, decided Haming deserved a chance to come to the ruin. On the way back to Riverwood, we were ambushed by several bandits.

"This is the part where you bleed to death!" One of them yelled as we locked blades, his axe and my sword meeting in a hail of sparks.

"You truly are a FOOL!" I yelled, slamming my shield into his gut before letting loose a wicked backhand cut, cutting his throat in a hail of blood.

Another bandit with a bow went down, Haming stabbing into his groin before cutting his throat, wielding his iron sword with gusto. I had trained him well. The last bandit looked at us before throwing his mace to the ground and running, not even daring to look back.

"Bandits. Typical. They yell how they're going to kill you and steal all your money, but once they're by themselves… they're gone." I said, spitting on one of the corpses.

"So, can I come with you to the tomb?!" Haming asked excitedly.

"Fine, you can come." I sighed, rolling my eyes dramatically.

"Thanks! You're not going to regret this!" He said, practically bouncing up and down.

Upon reentering Riverwood, we found several guards patrolling the town. I decided to pay a visit to the general store, opening the door only to hear the last lines of what sounded like a heated discussion.

"No! No treasure hunting, no adventures, no heroics!" The man behind the counter yelled.

"Well how are we going to get it back!" Retorted a woman standing in front of him.

The man noticed me.

"Ah, a customer! I assure you, despite you may have overheard, the Riverwood General Goods store is still open for business!" He said.

"Good. I need torches, food and some healing potions." I said.

"Right to business, eh? I like that. Well, let's see here…"

To his credit, the man worked quickly and I was out in naught but a few minutes. The woman he had been arguing with, who turned out to be his sister, Camilla, led Haming and I to the path up the mountain to the tomb, known by the locals as Bleak Falls Barrow.

The journey was mostly uneventful, save for a few wolves and a small trio of bandits. Haming and I made short work of them, and continued up the mountain to the Barrow itself.

"It's magnificent, isn't it?" I said, staring at the enormous arches looming over the main entrance.

Haming could only nod in agreement. Then an arrow struck me in the shoulder.

"GAH!" I roared, as the iron tip of the arrow pierced my relatively thin right shoulder armour and bit into my flesh. I reached up and tore the arrow out, drawing out a small trickle of blood, but nothing more.

Haming and I found ourselves fending off two bandits, one armed with an axe and the other with a warhammer. The one with the warhammer thought the reach given by his weapons length would let him take me out easily, but I proved him wrong quite quickly by severing the hammerhead from the handle.

Left with little more than a stick, he was almost defenseless, my blade splitting his stomach open and spilling his guts onto the ground. I kicked at the man attacking Haming, allowing him to stab the man in the chest. The archer loosed another arrow, and to my dismay, it hit Haming right in the chest.

Time itself seemed to slow down as he looked down at the arrow embedded in his chest, before he fell to the ground, blade falling from his fingers as I roared in anger, throwing my sword through the air, sending it whirling into the archers skull. I had no time to be impressed with myself, however, as I ran to Haming, as he whimpered on the ground.

**MajorDivider**

**BWAH-BWAH-BWAAAAAAHHH CLIFFHANGER**


End file.
